Lost and Found
by 14godike
Summary: An AU in which angels are pets. While escaping from a storm, Dean Winchester runs into the run-away angel, Castiel, and is forced to take him in. ** Rated T for blood in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

It was a dark rainy day when Dean found Castiel, a small angel stranded on the side road. He was young, no older than 9, and appeared to be completely alone, no tags or collars on him. It was pouring rain, his chocolatey wings dyed black and he was dressed in only a trench coat, his small frame shaking beneath it.

Dean had been walking home when the storm caught him and he was forced to run, nearly running over the drenched angel. As he was almost barrelled over, the angel stumbled backwards, throwing his arms over his face to protect himself. When he withdrew them, he saw a tall, tanned human male standing before him, staring down at him with a furrowed brow.

"Dude, shouldn't you be inside?" He asked, his voice husky and annoyed.

The angel didn't reply, his icy-blue eyes wide with fear and his feet frozen to the road.

Dean frowned when he received no response and took down the hood of his coat, growing irritated. "What, you lost or somethin'?" He asked, glancing the angels dark wings.

He nodded a little bit, his lips trembling and small whimpers coming from him.

Dean huffed and glanced down the street, his apartment just peaking out around the corner. "Come on," he muttered gruffly, grabbing the angel by the arm and hauling him towards the building. Inside, he looked around at the walls, trembling and breathing a little quicker as Dean fumbled around for his key and got the door open. He glanced at the angel, giving him a scrutinising look before allowing him inside.

"Wait here," he ordered before quickly running off to his room, leaving the angel dripping water onto the carpet. Dean returned a few minutes later, already dressed and becoming warmer, his lighter hair still damp.

In his arms, he held a pair of pyjama pants and a baggy t-shirt. He held them out towards the angel who just studied them with confusion. With an annoyed grunt, Dean set down the clothes and stripped the angel of his wet ones. He shook out the shirt and glanced between it and the angel, realising that the wings could be a problem. "One second," he said, turning away and hurrying to the bathroom, returning with a pair of scissors a minute or so later. He set down the shirt and carefully cut holes into the back of it, deciding that he didn't care much for the shirt anyways. When he was finished, there were two large, circular holes in the back, perfect for angel wings. He walked back over to the angel and instructed him to raise his arms, doing so obediently before Dean pulled the shirt on over his arms and head, feeding the wings through as well. "Comfortable?" He asked, receiving a mute nod from the angel. Dean sighed and nodded back, picking up the pyjama pants and helping into them.

When all was said and done, Dean straightened himself and examined his work. "What's your name, kid?" He asked, crossing his arms.

The angel hesitated, "Castiel," he replied quietly, his voice a little shaken.

Dean nodded, "Alright, Cas-tiel, I'm Dean," he said, struggling with the name for a second before sticking out his hand. Castiel studied it with a furrowed brow and Dean huffed, dropping up away, "Where do you live?"

Castiel shook his head a little bit.

"Alright, you're going to have to talk," Dean said gruffly before repeating himself, "Where do you live?"

"I don't know…" Castiel mumbled, shuffling his feet and keeping his eyes down on the ground.

"You don't _know_?" Dean said with annoyance, lifting a hand to rub his face, "Alright, what's your owner's name?"

"He only lets me call him Master," the angel explained quietly, glancing up nervously.

"Well, that's just great," Dean muttered then sighed, "Alright, com'ere." Castiel obediently walked over to Dean's side and looked up at him. Dean sighed and turned the angel around, lifting up the back of his shirt and peering between his wings. Tattooed there was a serial code that he scribbled down before releasing the angel, trying to disregard the bruises on his back he hadn't noticed earlier.

Dean cleared his throat and crossed his arms, "Alright, I'll get you home soon.." he said, trailing off a little bit before continuing on, "Where did you get those bruises from?"

Castiel looked down at the floor, not replying.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Dean snapped, making the angel jump to attention.

"My Master," he replied swiftly, letting his gaze fall back to the ground after he had spoken.

Dean huffed and turned away, rubbing at his face again. "Oh.." he muttered then glanced back at Castiel, "Look, you can spend the night here but I'm taking you back to your owner tomorrow."

He looked disappointed, but Castiel nodded anyways, knowing he had no choice in the matter.

"Alright," Dean said with a final nod, "I'm making us some dinner." He started off towards the kitchen, Castiel following him obediently. Once there, Dean sighed and looked through the cupboards, coming out with some bread and a can of tomato soup. "Good?" He asked Castiel, who only nodded a little bit in response, looking horribly confused. "Right.." Dean mumbled, getting started on the food and glancing at Castiel, "You can just go sit on the couch if you want. There's a TV.."

Castiel's expression lit up slightly and he nodded, scurrying off into the other room, leaving Dean alone to cook. He quickly found the remote and took it with him as he crawled onto the couch, huddling under a blanket that Dean had left out the other night. Having used a television before, Castiel quickly found a show about cats and settled into the couch, watching with a small smile.

For the first time that day, Castiel appeared to be genuinely happy.


	2. Chapter 2

That night, Dean figured out that Castiel had a _very_ big appetite; the petite angel had managed to drink a whole pot of soup along with half a loaf of bread. When he had finished his dinner, the angel had curled up onto the couch beside Dean, his hair brushing up the man's leg. Less than ten minutes later, the angel was fast asleep, his chest slowly rising and falling, his wings tucked around him.

Catching sight of the sleeping angel, Dean sighed and stood up carefully, cleaning up their dishes. When he returned back to the living room, Castiel had spread out slightly but appeared to still be fast asleep, using his wings as a makeshift blanket. With a light frown, Dean draped a blanket over the angel, placing a pillow under his head as well and making him comfortable before heading off to bed himself.

That night, he lay in bed, studying the ceiling and trying to decide with to do with the runaway in his living room.

Dean awoke early the next morning from a dreamless and short sleep, grunting at the light that was filtering through his drapes. However, no matter how much he tossed and turned, the man couldn't get back to sleep. Giving up after ten minutes, Dean sat up and picked up his laptop, flipping it open. He began to research the angel in his living room, finding a site labeled 'The Center for Lost and Found Angels.' He searched the code he had found yesterday and discovered that it was Castiel's third time running away. He debated clicking on the link labeled 'Have you found me?', but looked for the center's number instead. A minute or so later, he was dialling it into his phone.

"Hello, this is the Center for Lost and Found Angels, my name is Joy, how may I be of service?"

Dean cleared his throat, "Hello," he said, then hesitated, "I found an angel."

"Alright," Joy said, followed by the sound of tapping on a keyboard, "Do you have his tags or code?"

"He didn't have a collar, but I have his code," he said before listing off the series of numbers and letters that he had found the day before.

"It'll be one moment," she replied apologetically, the sound of typing starting up again and then silence, "Alright, it says here his name is Castiel; is that correct?"

"Yeah, that's him," Dean said with a sigh, adjusting his phone and pushing away his laptop.

"Perfect," Joy chimed, a smile in her voice, "Would you like his owner's phone number?"

Dean groaned mentally, wishing he could just get this over with. "Can't you just come get him or something?"

"Well… No, it's up to his owner to retrieve him, unless they believe he is a threat or too troublesome and needs to be put down," came her reply, the happiness in her voice dipping.

Dean actually groaned this time, "Fine. Just give me his damn number then."

"Very good. It's 215-655-9231 and his name is Michael Novak."

"Right. Thanks."

"You're welcome, have a good day!" She replied cheerily before the line clicked off.

Dean rubbed his face, setting his phone down and rubbing his temples. He glanced at the clock: it was a bit early to be calling Castiel's owner, but he really didn't give a fuck and dialled in his number anyways, hitting the send button and holding his phone up to his ear.

"Hello..?" Came a groggy voice after a few rings.

"Michael Novak? I found your angel," Dean replied gruffly.

There was silence on the end for a few seconds and the sound the phone being adjusted, "You found Castiel?"

"Yeah. He was by the side of the road. Can you come and get him?"

"Oh. Yes. Yes, of course," Michael said, then there was a few seconds of silence, "How is he behaving?"

Dean let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples. "He's been good. Sleeping, right now."

He cleared his throat, "Very good. I'll be sure he's punished for the trouble he's caused you, I'm sorry."

"No, God no," Dean said quickly, his voice rising slightly, "Look, just come and get him, just don't hurt him or anything. Just send him to bed without dinner or something."

There was another short silence, "That won't teach him," Michael replied, his voice tense.

"Yeah, well, maybe he won't run away if you actually take care of him," Dean snapped back quickly.

"As thankful as I am that you found him, I don't need your help raising my angel," he said back sharply.

"Whatever, just- just whatever," he said before rambling off his address, "Just get him off of my couch."

"I'll be by in an hour," the voice replied back tensely before the line went dead, the air still obviously thick between them.

Dean sighed heavily and shut his phone, tossing it off to the side and getting out of bed slowly. He slowly got changed, taking his time and putting on a decent outfit: a nice white button down shirt and dark pants, a red tie topping off the whole outfit.

He examined himself quietly in the mirror, fixing his hair and knowing he was just stalling. He let out a long sigh and slowly made his way out to the living room, taking a seat on the end of the couch beside Castiel's ruffled feathers.

"Cas?" Dean said, giving him a nudge on the shoulder.

Castiel grunted softly, giving his wings and flutter and not opening his eyes.

"Cas, you gotta get up," Dean said gruffly, giving him another shake, "Your owner's coming to get you."

The small angel tensed up slightly and his eyes opened slowly, finding Dean's face. "Mm..?"

"Your owner's coming," he repeated.

"O-Oh.." Castiel murmured, shifting slightly and sitting up slowly, his short hair in a disarray.

Dean reached out and adjusted the angel's hair, running his fingers through it till it was at least slightly neat. "Now, Cas, you have to be a good angel for him, alright? He's going to be mad that you ran away," he explained slowly.

Castiel whimpered a little bit, his eyes falling down into his lap before shutting tightly. "Dean…"

"Yeah, kid?" Dean replied, lowering his hand to tilt up Castiel's face, catching the angel's flickering open eyes.

"Dean, I'm scared," the angel whimpered softly, sniffling softly and trying to drag his eyes away.

Dean's eyes softened slightly and he moved his hand to Castiel's shoulder, giving it a light rub. "Hey, there's nothin' to be afraid of, Cas," he explained, giving him a trying smile.

Castiel shook his head quickly, "H-He's going to disown me, I know it," he whispered, his head falling back over and his lip trembling.

"Hey-hey, come on, don't be like that," the man said, pulling Castiel into his arms and giving him a small squeeze, "He won't, okay? That's why you're going to be good for him. So no crying, alright?"

Castiel sniffled and glanced up at Dean, rubbing his eyes as Dean pulled away and nodding a little bit. "If.. If you believe that will work.." he whispered, still not very hopeful.

Dean gave him another smile, fixing Castiel's hair again. "Just be happy when you see him, alright? GIve him a hug or something."

He sniffled again and glanced up at Dean, "But Dean… I'm not happy to see him," he murmured softly, shaking his head.

Dean let out a long sighed and ran his fingers through his own hair, "Come on, Cas, just pretend. For me, okay?" He offered.

Castiel glanced up at Dean again and gave him a small nod, "If you insist.." he murmured, shifting and hanging his legs over the side of the couch as Dean stood, "Dean…"

"Yeah, Cas?" Dean said, stopping to look at the angel.

"I don't want to go…"

Dean huffed and sat back down, putting a hand on Castiel's back and rubbing it softly. "Your his pet, Cas, not mine," he explained.

"I don't want to be…" Castiel mumbled helplessly.

Dean sighed, pulling the angel towards him and hugging him gently. "You gotta, dude. You're an angel."

"I don't want to be an angel," Castiel whimpered, limply pressed to Dean's chest, his wings and feathers sticking out in awkward directions.

Dean let out a long sigh and ran his fingers through Castiel's delicate, chocolate brown wings. "You have these nice wings though," he pointed out, attempting to cheer up the angel.

He only sighed and relaxed against Dean's chest, shutting his eyes again.

During the five minutes they sat there, all Castiel could think about was not being an angel. Being free and being happy, not having to be anyone's pet. He didn't understand; he was just like all of the humans, only with wings sprouting from his back. Wings. Wings were the only thing that kept him from being like everyone else. What he had to do hit him like a brick and he tensed up in Dean's arms, getting his attention.

"I'll be right back," Castiel murmured numbly as Dean unraveled him from his arms.

"'Kay.." Dean said, watching the angel scurry off to the bathroom. He let out a long sigh and stood, wandering into the kitchen with the idea of getting something to eat.

As Dean started on breakfast, Castiel disappeared into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him softly. He looked around the enclosed bathroom before slowly making his way to the vanity that housed the sink and several drawers.

The angel carefully dropped down to his knees in front of it and quietly opened each one, rooting through them for what he needed. After a minute or so of searching, he withdrew a pair of scissors from one of the drawers, holding them up to examine them. He peered it's sharp edges then glanced over his shoulder, giving his wings a soft flutter. His stomach dropped with anticipation about what he was about to do


	3. Chapter 3

Dean had been eating breakfast when he was interrupted by a knocking at the door. He rose from his seat and walked to the entrance, peering through the peephole at the official, slightly overweight, man standing in front of it. He sighed and undid the lock before opening the door, sizing up Castiel's owner.

"He's in the bathroom, he'll be out in a minute," Dean stated with a frown, stepping aside to let the man in.

Michael Novak nodded stiffly and entered, awkwardly crossing his arms and glancing around the living room, obviously impatient to get going. "Thank you," he said in an uncomfortable voice, mostly just trying to fill the awkward silence between them, "Was he g-"

Michael's words were cut off by loud cry coming from the bathroom and Dean turned to face it. "Cas?" He said before hurrying over to it and grabbing the knob, trying to turn it with no luck, "Cas- you alright?!"

Castiel was most certainly not alright. He was slumped against the counter with the pair of scissors, now very bloody, hanging at his side; on the floor sat his detached wing, blood pooling around it. Pain was shooting through the small angel's body and he struggled to breathe, his head beginning to spin wildly. He gasped and gripped the counter tightly, leaning over it and letting out another pained cry, blood flowing down his back and splattering to the floor.

"CAS!" Dean repeated, pounding with his fist into the door.

Michael quickly moved towards Dean, staying a few feet behind him. "What the hell is going on?!" He growled, dropping his arms down and tightening his hands into fists.

At the sound of his owner's voice, Castiel picked up his head and forced himself to go on, switching the scissors to his other hand and raising them towards his remaining wing. His hand was shaking violently as he opened them, struggling to hold onto them, let alone find his wing. As he struggled, his hand slipped and collided with a tuft of feathers, admitting another cry from the angel as the small mass plummeted to the ground.

Dean grunted in frustration and turned away, rushing into the kitchen and riffling through one of his drawers, searching for a key labeled 'bathroom' with no avail. Michael glanced between Dean and the bathroom door, completely unsure of what to do. "Castiel? Castiel, come out and see your Master," he suddenly begged to the door.

In reply to Michael's plead, Castiel cried out even louder, trying once again to cut his wing and only hitting some of his dark and bloody feathers. He slumped into the bathroom counter once again, dropping his head down and gasping, sobs escaping him.

As Castiel continued to suffer, Dean rifled through the drawer more desperation. After a minute or so of searching, he pulled out the heavenly key. He pushed past Michael and stuffed it in the keyhole, wriggling the knob and trying to get it to turn.

Behind the door, Castiel continued to try to cut at his wings, growing weaker by the snip, each one still only hitting feathers, leaving his wing butchered and half feathered. Finally, he could stand it no more and his hand dropped away, his body threatening to tumble over.

Dean continued to jiggle and try to turn the lock, apparently stiff from lack of use. After far too much time, it turned and Dean threw open the door. The first thing he saw was Castiel, slumping against the sink and struggling to stand. Secondly, he saw the crinkled wing on the ground and the blood pooling around the angel. He took two quick steps towards Castiel and scooped him up in his arms, holding the weak and bloody angel to his chest. He hurriedly carried him out into the main room, grabbing a towel along the way, before carefully setting him down on the ground.

Castiel was crying out in pain again, the stub of his wing trapped against the ground, his mangled one flapping with no avail. Dean quickly turn the angel over and pressed the towel into his back, trying to stop the heavy blood flow as Michael stood by with wide eyes. "W- What the hell?!" He stuttered, grabbing ahold of the couch to keep from falling over at the sight of so much blood, "Cas- Castiel where- what happened to your beautiful wings?!"

"If you're not going to help, get the fuck out!" Dean answered for the angel, glaring daggers at the man before looking back down at Castiel, "Hey- shh, shh, it's okay. J-Just hang on Cas, I'll get you some help- alright?"

Michael looked between them with wide eyes then turned away, stumbling out of the apartment without another glance. He hurried outside and jumped into his car before speeding away with a screech of his tires.

Dean hadn't even noticed the man had left until he heard the screech and raised his head. He swore under his breath and looked back down at Castiel. "I-I've gotta carry you, okay buddy? There's an animal hospital just down the street and they take angels, okay?" He murmured frantically to the angel before scooping him back up to his chest, keeping the towel pressed firmly to his back.

Castiel cried out in pain as he was moved, kicking weakly with his legs and struggling to get away. Dean swallowed stiffly and continued to murmur soft words to the angel, hurrying out of his apartment without even bothering to shut the door. He kept Castiel snug to his chest, struggling down the stairs and trying to keep from bouncing the injured angel. Once outside, he began to run towards the animal hospital several blocks away.

"D… Dean…" Castiel murmured, dragging his half open eyes up to Dean's panicked face and continuing to breathe heavily, "D-Did… M'I still n'angel..?"

Dean trembled at Castiel's words and held him a little closer, shooting a glance down at him. "You can be whatever the hell you want to be Cas, just stay with me.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean sat beside Castiel's hospital bed, his head in his hands. The room was stark white except for the glaring blood stain on Dean's shirt and the dark hairs on the wounded angel's head. Dean hadn't even bothered going home. As soon as the angel came out of surgery, he retreated to his bedside, refusing to budge even for food.

It had been two hours since Castiel had left surgery, leaving him with a bandaged wing and a stub of where his wing had once been. He had several tubes and needles poking into his body and a monitor beside him that beeped with each heartbeat. The nurses told Dean that they suspected his angel would be fine, and that they just had to monitor him for infection, Dean replied that he would monitor him himself and hadn't left his bedside since, not that he was planning to.

Dean raised his eyes from his hands to study that injured angel, reaching out slowly after a few seconds to take his hand and squeeze it lightly. "You'll be alright, Cas," he murmured to the unconscious body, watching his face for any signs of life. When none came, he gently let go of his hand and resumed his waiting.

It was a total of four hours after the incident when Castiel awoke in a blurry haze. His brow furrowed as he was pulled into reality, shifting and slowly opening his eyes, a quiet grunt coming from his chapped lips. At the sound, Dean's head shot up and he moved closer to the angel, bringing himself into his view. "Cas? Hey- Cas, it's me, Dean..?" He said to the groggy angel.

It took Castiel a few seconds to find Dean's face, blinking blearily and opening his mouth, struggling to form words. "Dean…?" He finally managed to mumble.

A smile quirked at the corners of Dean's lips and he reached out, taking Castiel's hand and giving it a light squeeze. "Hey.. Hey, buddy, how you doin'?" He asked gently, scouring the angel's face for any signs of pain.

Castiel sniffled softly and opened his mouth again. "M'okay.." he mumbled, his lips struggling to form the words. Apparently, he had been pumped with a number of drugs to numb his pain temporarily, making functioning somewhat difficult in his drug-induced haze.

Dean chuckled softly and scooted his chair closer, reaching over to Castiel's head to push his bedraggled and sweaty hair out of his eyes. "Alright, Cas. You keep being okay, alright? We'll get you home soon," he murmured, moving his hand away.

Castiel blinked slowly, still looking awfully tired. "I don't want t'go home…" he mumbled, eyelids drooping.

Dean let out a shaky breath and squeezed Castiel's hand again. "Not that home, Cas. My home," he informed him, letting his smile widen slightly, "You can come live with me."

It took the angel a few seconds to register what Dean had said, his brow furrowing. "You 'dopted me?" He managed, his head tilting to the side slightly.

Dean's smile grew and he nodded slowly. "Yeah- you're my angel now," he murmured.

"But.. M'not an angel anymore…" Castiel murmured as his eyes drifted shut, unable to support their weight anymore.

Dean swallowed and didn't reply, unable inform the angel differently as he fell asleep once again.

Castiel stayed in the hospital for a total of three days before Dean was allowed to take him home. During that time, Dean had only snuck away when Castiel slept, managing to get some food, clean clothes, and shower.

When it was announced that Castiel could go home the next day, the angel's face lit up and he threw his arms around his nurse, a girl he had quickly found a liking for after she had given him a lollipop on his second day there. Dean grinned and ruffled the angel's hair, the nurse laughing along as well. "Alright, get some rest, Castiel," she instructed him with a smile, prying herself from the angel's grip to doodle some things down on her clipboard, "I'll be back in the morning discharge you."

After his nurse had left, Castiel turned to Dean and threw his arms around his neck, burying his face in his shoulder and giving his injured wing a jerky flap. The bandages on it had since been removed to reveal a choppy and uneven wing, several areas missing their feathers to reveal the black shaft of his wing.

Dean smiled and patted the angel on the back, avoiding his areas of injury. "We're going home, Cas," he murmured with a grin, receiving a purr of appreciation from the angel.

The next day, after needles and bandages were removed, papers were signed, and instructions were given, Castiel and Dean walked out of the hospital, hand in hand, the angel smiling widely and his owner glancing down at him with a grin.

Dean reached down and picked up Castiel, letting him wrap an arm around his neck as they walked down the street, returning to his house without a care in the world. The angel continued to smile broadly, letting his head rest against Dean's shoulder as they made their way to his new home, his mangled wing draped over his back.

It took them a few minutes to reach Dean's house, and a few seconds longer for Dean to wrestle his keys out of his pocket, but when the door opened, Castiel's face lit up and Dean grinned at him. "Welcome home, Cas," he purred, "Welcome home.


End file.
